


This is my night

by JustAnnie



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, Liverpool F.C., Liverpool FC players - Freeform, M/M, milnerson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 04:03:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11349480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnnie/pseuds/JustAnnie
Summary: “You’re more wired for this game than I can remember seeing you.”“It’s Chelsea,” Jordan replied quickly, shrugging his shoulders as if that said it all. Which it kind of did.





	This is my night

**Author's Note:**

> For the wonderful amazing Anna on her birthday <3 
> 
> This is based on Liverpool's 2-1 win against Chelsea at Stamford Bridge in the 16/17 season. And The Hug after.

“What’s going on, Hendo?” 

The question came from James Milner, watching him across the table. Jordan Henderson raised his eyebrows, a questioning expression on his face. The cafeteria was quiet, everyone else having gone home or unwinding somewhere else. It wasn’t unusual for the captain and vice-captain to have a little meeting pre-game, so everyone left them to it. But usually they talked about their teammates, the week in training, deciding if anyone needed some extra help or encouragement. 

“Uh, I dunno?” 

James narrowed his eyes, studying his face closely. No one could ever accuse Jordan Henderson of slacking off in training or during games even at his worst, but the past week he had been taking it to the extreme. Not that it was unusual before a big game, everyone was giving that little bit extra then. But James always worried about Jordan, that’s just what he did. He saw it as his duty as the vice-captain. A duty their teammates might say he took a little too seriously at times. 

“You’re more wired for this game than I can remember seeing you.” 

“It’s Chelsea,” Jordan replied quickly, shrugging his shoulders as if that said it all. Which it kind of did. 

“Right. Everyone wants to beat Chelsea. I get it. Just make sure you don’t run yourself into the ground.” James was still studying his face carefully. Jordan looked back at him, seeming to consider if there was any point to try and end this conversation quickly and move on. But this was James, he always seemed to know when Jordan had something on his mind. 

“It’s just…I really wanna win it.” 

“We all wanna win it.” 

“No, _I_ wanna win it. Me.” Jordan sighed, leaning back in his chair, his hand moving up to his hair, picking at that one curl he hadn’t been able to get under control in the dressing room after training. 

“Okay. Not that unusual to wanna be the hero. Though maybe for you.” James frowned, gaze absentmindedly following Jordan’s hand. 

“I know, it’s selfish. I just…it’s the kind of thing Stevie would do right about now. We need a win, and when it’s against them we need it bad.” 

“No one’s asking you to be Ste-”

“I know! That’s not…” Jordan sighed, biting his lower lip as he tried to think of a way to explain it. I’m not trying to be. Most of the time. But just this once, it would be great to be that kind of captain, you know? The-the hero.” 

James smiled softly, nodding. It was that little childhood dream they’d all had. To be the hero in the big moments, the big games. Score the winning goal, put in that Man of the Match performance. James had resigned to not being that kind of player a long time ago, and Jordan wasn’t the kind to seek that glory either. That didn’t mean the desire wasn’t there though, to sometimes be something more than the workhorse. 

“Hell, I wanna get in a captain’s performance and win it _for_ him. Make their fans choke on their stupid song.” 

James’ smile only grew at that. Jordan’s cheeks had gone slightly pink and he looked down, suddenly embarrassed at admitting to what he had been thinking of all week. James leaned forward, keeping his eyes on Jordan’s to get him to look up, tempted to reach out and lift his chin to make him. His hand was half lifted when Jordan looked up and met his gaze. 

“I think you will.” James said softly. Jordan only raised his eyebrows in response. 

“Yeah?” 

James nodded, his hand moving to Jordan’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“Tomorrow’s your night. I know it is.” 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

The ball fell at Jordan’s feet. He looked up and aimed, instantly knowing it would go in, he could feel it. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could just about hear the echo of James telling him this was his night. The next thing he knew what seemed like every single one of his teammates were on top of him, shouting and grabbing at him, and Jordan let himself get carried away for a short moment. But this was Chelsea though, away, and as soon as the celebration passed he had to refocus. 

His gaze drifted to the one person he knew hadn’t let himself get carried away at all - James never did, not until the game was over at least - meeting his eyes. James was smiling at him, giving him a quick thumbs-up before he moved back to position. Jordan took a deep breath and turned around, facing the Chelsea team getting ready to kick off. He was ready to battle this out, they were going to win this. 

When it was over, Jordan stayed quiet and calm as teammates and opponents thanked him for the game. His body wanted to collapse on the ground and rest, his mind wanted to celebrate like a big kid. Then his eyes fell on him, James, rushing towards him, his whole face one massive grin. Everything else fell away, and Jordan moved towards him. 

“Yes Milly!” 

He heard himself shouting, no longer bothering to keep the massive grin from his face as James crashed into him, picking him up from the ground for a second. It was tempting to pull him close and keep him there, lean into him and take a moment to rest. James wasn’t letting go, his face against his neck and ear. 

“Told you” he said against Jordan’s skin before he finally did let go, their arms remaining around each other as they moved apart, until they physically couldn’t. It only lasted a few seconds, but Jordan still felt James’ arms around him and his breath against his neck as he walked down the tunnel back to the dressing room.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Predictably, the private hotel bar was filled with happy footballers that night. James retired early, reminding the others that they were off early in the morning and straight to a training session when they got back to Liverpool. There would be no sympathy for hangovers from their manager or coaches. No one was really listening though, and James turned towards Jordan with a shrug and a quick wink before he took off. 

Jordan was the last sober person left in the room now, besides the bartender (though he wasn’t entirely convinced about that guy either), his gaze remaining on the door James had disappeared through. Being sober had never stopped him from joining in with the dancing and singing before, and tonight was his night. But the one person he really wanted to celebrate it with had just left. He didn’t really make a conscious decision to leave himself. He just stood up, leaving behind his half full glass of some overly sweet non-alcoholic drink the bartender had insisted was amazing (Jordan was pretty sure after just one sip that the man must be a Chelsea fan to have served him that), and walked out, not saying goodnight to anyone. 

James looked surprised at first when he opened the door, eyes searching Jordan’s face and relaxing when he couldn’t see any signs of something being wrong. 

“You had enough of them all then?” James joked, stepping aside to let Jordan in without even asking why he was there. 

“Actually, uh, I just wanted to say thank you.” Jordan turned towards him as soon as the door was closed. 

“For what?” 

“Just…being you.” 

James’ smile was a bit uncertain, and he shrugged his shoulders. 

“That’s all I ever am.” 

“No, that’s not ‘all’, it-it’s a lot.”

“Okay…thanks I guess.” James seemed to have gone shy suddenly, not looking at Jordan anymore, instead staring at his own feet. 

“You said it was gonna be my night, that’s why I scored.” 

“No,” James looked back at him, a frown on his face. “You scored cause you made a brilliant shot and you were in the right place. It had nothing to do with me.” 

“I scored because I believed I would, and I did that cause of you. Stop putting yourself down.”

“I will if you will.” 

For a moment they just stared at each other, before both were suddenly grinning, James shaking his head. 

“Okay, mate…I was on my way to bed, you want something else?” 

Jordan stared at him, the obvious answer to that question at the forefront of his mind. Normally he would push it to the back of his mind, ignore it and suffer in silence. But this was his big night, right? Somehow he felt like he could do anything, like there was nothing holding him back, not tonight. 

“Yes. You.” 

“What?” 

James was staring at him. Jordan could feel his own heart beating harder and faster as he took one step closer, two steps closer, three steps closer. They were so close now his arm was brushing against James’ as he reached out. James was staring up at him, but not backing away. Jordan took it as a sign and leaned in. Soon his lips were against James’, pressing into him, his arm moving around his waist. Then he felt James kissing him back, just as fear started seeping in that he had made a mistake. Jordan smiled as the kiss ended, staying so close that he could feel James’ breath against his lips. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for ages,” Jordan admitted. James’ eyes stayed close for a second, fluttering open as he looked at him through still slightly wide eyes. 

“Me to…” James smiled softly. “Didn’t think it would ever happen though.” 

Jordan shrugged, his hand drifting up to his face, tracing a finger along James’ jaw, feeling James leaning into the touch. 

“Tonight was my night. And this is how I wanted to celebrate…”


End file.
